


my tongue has tripped me (long before)

by SafelyCapricious



Series: i put a spell on you [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma wakes up with a pounding head.</p><p>Her mind takes a moment to remember what happened. She’s not waking up – she’s regaining consciousness. </p><p>The Modern-Magic AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	my tongue has tripped me (long before)

**Author's Note:**

> shineyma's prompt: “How did you escape?” mostly.

Jemma wakes up with a pounding head.

Her mind takes a moment to remember what happened. She’s not waking up – she’s regaining consciousness. She and Fitz had been just about to set a ward for the nice little old lady down the street when she’d heard a noise and something had hit her over the head.

She blinks open bleary eyes. Her hands are tied behind her back and she’s lying on her side. The potion she’d just finished has been spilled across the carpet, but it hasn’t soaked in yet. She hasn’t been unconscious for long.

She only has a moment to mourn the seventeen hours the potion took – useless now – before she hears a voice in the other room. She doesn’t recognize it at all, though after a moment she can make out the words. “…thousand grand. Put it in locker 645 at the train station and I won’t hurt either of them.”

She grimaces.

She’s never been kidnapped and ransomed before. She’s surprised that Mrs. Klondiike has that kind of money, and she’s not sure why she’d care so much about her and Fitz.

Actually. She wouldn’t.

She can’t see Fitz at all from where she’s lying, but he has to be there somewhere, probably equally unconscious.

She stares in thought at the potion that’s right in front of her, trying to think like Hunter and Bobbi.

Her kitten digs in, sharp pricks of not pain along her calf, and Jemma’s eyes focus fully on the potion. It might not work, but it’s better than thinking Mrs. Klondiike will save them.

It takes her a moment to wiggle forward enough to lick the carpet. She gets potion and dirt and cat hair. She grimaces and licks again and again, only stopping when the potion is coating her tongue.

An iron grip closes around her arm and drags her to her feet. She stares at the face of her potential murderer and is surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be, judging books by their covers and what not, but she is.

He’s not a big man – taller than her, but most people are – and he’s in a suit. He looks friendly, even. Clean and put together. Her mind had been imagining someone who might be termed a goon, big and muscled with scars.

He smiles at her and it doesn’t look threatening at all. “We need to go now. Your friend is okay. I won’t have to knock you out again if you come peacefully, okay?”

She mumbles, “That’s a terrible idea,” soft enough that he leans forward to hear her and then she spits.

The potion hits off center, but it hits his forehead and he doesn’t wipe it off. Instead he sighs and frowns like he’s disappointed in her. “Fine. Be that way,” he says and starts to drag her out of the room.

They’ve hit the doorway before she figures out how to draw the symbol she needs backwards and behind her back, which means that when he collapses, nerveless, he falls rather heavily on the wooden floor of the entry way.

She rushes into the kitchen and only cuts herself a little getting a knife and slicing through her bonds. Fitz is slouched over and tied in one of the kitchen chairs, but she only stops to take his pulse before she heads away to tie up their captor.

She’s just gotten Fitz’s hands unbound when the air grows thick enough with power that she has trouble drawing a breath. She has the terrifying thought that the man must have summoned something and that’s why they were running away. Her knees have gone weak, and the only thing that’s keeping her on her feet is her iron grip on Fitz’s chair – when the backdoor gets blown wide open.

Her vision is starting to go dark from the lack of air she’s getting, so she can only make out the form of a man in the doorway before her kitten starts to purr and the power vanishes as suddenly as it came.

Her fingers release and she falls as she takes a huge breath of air.

She doesn’t hit the ground, however. Instead she finds herself staring up at Ward, who somehow has her cradled in his lap as he sits on the floor.

Jemma blinks, slowly, and tries to make sense of everything.

He brushes hair out of her face and asks, “Are you okay?” She can feel his magic like a caress, checking to see if she’s hurt.

She takes another deep breath, but still hasn’t managed to respond before he finds her wrists and pulls them forward. There’s definitely rope burn, and a few slices where she slipped with the knife.

He rubs his thumbs distractingly over her pulse points, and suddenly it makes sense.

She blinks and says, “You’re not Mrs. Klondiike.”

He frowns down at her and says, carefully, one hand letting go to check the back of her head where she got hit, “No. I’m not. Are you okay, Jemma? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

She shakes her head and grips his hand, using the leverage to sit up and scoot out of his lap. He lets her, eyes dark, but keeps a soft grip on her wrist. “No, sorry. I thought he was ransoming us to Mrs. Klondiike. But he’d called you, hadn’t he?”

His expression smooths and he lets out a breath. Tension she hadn’t realized he was holding releases across his shoulders, his thumbs rub across her pulse point still, the rhythm is oddly hypnotic. “How did you escape? Did he do anything? Where is he?” he asks, softly.

She makes a face and tugs her wrist out of his hand, he frowns as he lets go – but the important part for her is that he does let go. “He just knocked us out, spilled my potion. I’m fine. I’m worried about Fitz though, he hasn’t woke up yet.”

Her kitten is purring against her collarbone now, and she knows it’s an attempt to comfort her. Her heart is still fluttering and she can still remember the overwhelming feeling of Ward’s power. She’s known, intellectually, that he is powerful…but _that_ isn’t what she’s expected.

She has to focus on something else so she doesn’t panic.

Fitz is still unconscious.

She turns away from Ward and kneels at his side, her fingers on his pulse. He must have been hit harder than her – or perhaps the man, whoever he is, had knocked him out twice. She runs her fingers though his hair and sure enough, there are two large goose eggs.

She lets out a shaky breath and turns back to Ward, asking in a worried voice, “Will you help me get him to the hospital?”

There is something alien in Ward’s eyes – dark and feral – that makes her want to drop her gaze. She tilts her chin up instead and he smiles. He blinks slowly and when he opens his eyes again they are clear and friendly. His voice is soft with implied intimacy that makes her want to shake when he says, “Of course,” and he stands up and has Fitz cradled in his arms before Jemma can scramble to her feet.

He nods his head and she feels him do _something_ , though she can’t tell what it was. The power speeds by her, sharp and strong, and is gone.

She wonders if, perhaps, he summoned the car that’s waiting for them at the back entrance.

He buckles Fitz into the front seat while she hesitates, looking back at the house. It looks darker, than it did, and she wonders if it’s her own knowledge of what happened there or the lingering effects of his anger. She should call someone – tell the wardens what happened, tell Mrs. Klondiike what happened.

The thought of stepping back into the house to use the phone makes terror skitter down her spine and before she can brave it anyways Ward’s hand is on her back and guiding her into the back of his car. He meets her eyes for a long moment and promises, “I’ll take care of everything. You just make sure Fitz is okay.”

She lets out a breath and relaxes as he pushes the seat back and gets into the car.

Everyone she knows would probably yell at her for trusting him.

But she does anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi and give me a prompt.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


End file.
